The Kidnapping of Kurt Hummel
by klemonademouth
Summary: Out-take from "So I Went and Let You Blow My Mind", oneshot. Kurt is kidnapped in his dorm by New Directions, and interrogated fiercely about Blaine. Well, somewhat fiercely. Don't have to have read other story for this to make sense. Klaine.


**A/N: Okay. So I legitimately had the next chapter for "So I Went and Let You Blow My Mind" typed up and ready to go, and guess what? My laptop crashed. So I lost it all. I had this little sweetheart already down in my notebook because some people expressed their interest in knowing what Kurt did with New Directions when they kidnapped him. So here it is. I don't think you have to have read "So I Went and Let You Blow My Mind" to read this, although I could be wrong.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And I hope my laptop gets fixed soon and all the files are fully restored.**

**Has anyone ever heard of the mysterious Pavarotti twitterer? FreePavarotti is the name of the account. A lot of people think it's Darren Criss, or so I've heard.**

**(I don't own Glee)**

**THE KIDNAPPING OF KURT HUMMEL**

Kurt was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling and trying desperately not to laugh as Blaine did his Donald Duck impression. It was hilarious, but if he so much as smirked he would crack his facial mask (something Blaine had already done to his own ten minutes ago).

He heard the door creak open, but didn't really want to turn to see who it was. "You know, we let you go unchaperoned back to your room because we thought you'd be making gay babies together up here," Wes' voice said. "Not lying on your separate beds, your faces covered in green slime."

"Stop talking," Blaine said. "We're trying to listen to the dulcet tones of Katy Perry."

"Your obsession really is getting unhealthy, Kurt shouldn't be allowing this." Wes said it as if it was possible for Kurt to deny Blaine of anything. "Also, this is possibly the most awkward song you could listen to of hers, given your situation. Peacock, Blaine, really? Is this some sort of twisted explanation for the green crap on your faces?"

Kurt was extraordinarily glad that his face was covered in said "green crap", and Wes couldn't see his skin, which was turning what Kurt was sure was a lovely shade of fuchsia.

Blaine told him they were moisturizing masks, and Kurt hummed in agreement.

"You know, Blaine, sometimes I forget that you're gay, and then you go and do something like this."

"You never forget I'm gay," Blaine pointed out.

"That's because you never stop rhapsodizing about Neil Patrick Harris' voice, or Johnny Depp's facial structure, or Kurt's-"

"_Okay_, Wes," Blaine said, quickly.

Kurt, who had lost interest in the conversation and had been somewhat drifting off to sleep, looked up. Blaine's cheeks were a dark red and he was death-glaring at Wes, who was smiling innocently.

"Go back to your room and bother David."

Wes pouted- not nearly as effectively as Blaine could, but it was a good effort all the same. "No. David won't play with me."

_"What are you, five?" Kurt spoke for the first time since he'd put the mask on._

"Don't answer that," Blaine said, as Wes opened his mouth to respond. "Your answer won't be funny."

Scowling, We began to whistle to himself. Kurt recognized the tune from somewhere, but he couldn't quite figure out where. "You guys are boring," he finally sighed, crossing his arms.

"Sorry to disappoint," Blaine said, sarcastically. "I did tell you to go bother David."

"No," Wes snapped. "I don't want to. I'm going to go nail all the ceiling tiles shut." He turned on his heel and stormed from the room, shutting the door gently behind him (because even when angry, Dalton boys were extremely respectful of school property).

_Nail the ceiling tiles shut? What the hell…? _Kurt attempted to raise an eyebrow at Blaine, but the mask had frozen his facial features. Blaine seemed to understand, though, and gave him a charming smile (which somehow still managed to melt Kurt, even when Blaine had that ridiculous mask on his face). "It irritates Eric a bit, you see," he explained. "Because it takes him a little longer to get past all the nails, you know."

Kurt didn't even bother to question this kind of statement anymore.

"Can we wash this off yet?" Blaine finally asked, sounding as if he was straining to speak through the hardened green mass on his face.

Kurt checked the clock. "Sure. We should be fine now."

Blaine washed the mask off as quickly as he could and returned to their room. Kurt took his time in the Dalton bathroom. How _different_ it was from a McKinley bathroom. Here, the boys actually respected the furniture. The bathroom was spotless. None of the urinals were ripped off the wall.

Another boy was at the mirror beside him, a sport bag slung over his shoulder, a Dalton letter jacket clearly visible in the unzipped main compartment. A football player, but he flung no derogatory remarks at Kurt as Kurt ran the towel over his baby-smooth skin. He even smiled at Kurt and offered a slight nod as he left the bathroom.

How different from McKinley.

He patted his face dry, and headed back to their dorm. What he saw when he stepped inside the room made the towel slip from his suddenly limp fingers to the floor. He let out a noise, maybe, because shirtless Blaine turned around and Kurt _really couldn't breathe._

Holy _hell_, that boy was fine.

Swimmer's body, some part of Kurt's mind reminded him, but Kurt really couldn't care less _why _Blaine was that damn attractive (better than Sam, which he'd never have thought to be possible), so long as he stayed that way.

He realized in some part of his mind that he was gaping, open-mouthed at the other boy.

He also sort of didn't care.

And Blaine was making a face- a sort of apologetic half-smile, and Kurt had no idea why until-

"I'm sorry, I know the scar's gross."

If it were possible, Kurt flushed even darker. Blaine thought Kurt's eyes were glued to his chest because of some scar Kurt couldn't even _see_? How dense could the boy possibly be? Or did he just not realize how good-looking he was?

"Wh-what scar?" Kurt asked, and felt a rush of embarrassment in the way that he somehow made two short words trip over each other like that.

Blaine looked confused. "You don't see it?"

"You have a scar?" _stop staring at him_! Kurt's mind screamed, but his eyes were perfectly happy where they were, thankyouverymuch.

"Then what are you-" and something that looked horrifyingly like comprehension dawned in Blaine's eyes.

Finally, _finally_, Kurt's body gave in to his brain's commands and he brushed past Blaine- _jesus__ that was his _skin _I just felt_- and he went to his closet, rummaging through it for absolutely nothing at all.

"The mask got on my shirts," Blaine was saying. His voice sounded funny- jittery, although maybe that was just Kurt's imagination. "Did it get on yours, too?"

Cool. Calm. Collected. "I've been putting on that mask since I was nine, Blaine. I haven't gotten it on my shirt in years." He inserted a smug tone into his voice, hoping Blaine would hear and understand the humor without Kurt having to turn around. Because he wasn't sure he could turn without bad things happening.

"I'm bringing them to the laundry before they stain," he heard Blaine say. "Do you have anything you want me to wash?"

"No, thanks." His hands stilled in the closet, but he couldn't possibly turn around.

"Uhm, are you okay?"

Unwillingly, Kurt turned around, fixing his eyes on a spot just above Blaine's head. "Shouldn't you put a shirt on?" _And stop torturing me?_ He added silently.

Blaine laughed, and the sound was somehow self-conscious. "I hadn't even though about that. Yeah. Toss me one, would you?"

Kurt fished a red t-shirt out of Blaine's closet and threw it at him, pointedly _not looking_ as the other boy left the room.

Once Blaine was gone, Kurt fell back onto his bed with a sigh, closing his eyes. Only then did he allow himself to remember the was Blaine's stomach tightened when he talked, the way the muscles in his shoulders flexed when he turned around-

"We can come back later, if you're busy," said Puck's unmistakeable voice.

"Look, his face is all red," Santana cooed. "He's thinking of- what's that guy's name again?"

"Blaine," Tina supplied. "And apparently, he's dapper."

"Blaine is a dapper name," Artie agreed. "And you room with him?"

Kurt was staring at them all, horrified.

Rachel looked offended. "What, no hello?"

Kurt found his voice. "How the _hell _did you all get in here?"

"Some guy let us in," Quinn supplied. "Uh, sort of Asian, and he knew Sam. They're still downstairs talking."

Kurt let his head fall back against the wall. "Wes," he groaned.

"So you're not happy to see us," Finn clarified.

"I tried to bring you a pet bumblebee, but it died when I put it in the plastic container," Brittany told him, sitting down on his bed. "I named him Frankie and Artie had a funeral with me for him."

"We are kidnapping you," Rachel informed him, ignoring Brittany (as most of New Directions did when she said something completely absurd).

"You can't just _kidnap _me, I've got school tomorrow, we both do!"

"Oh, and you worried about that when you and your man-candy decided to steal Puck's lawn gnome at 11 at night?" Santana said, lifting an eyebrow.

"I-" Kurt opened his mouth, then shut it again. "I want to spend more time with Blaine."

"You always want to spend more time with Blaine." Quinn rolled her eyes. "But we haven't seen you since Sectionals. Come on, Kurt. One night."

His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine. Kidnap me."

They really were enthusiastic about going through the full nine yards, and Kurt hadn't the heart to disappoint them. They handcuffed him, and were just finishing writing the note when Mercedes poked her head out the door. "Boy two floors down says Blaine's leaving the laundry room."

Rachel held the note in front of Kurt's face. "Approved?"

_Dear Blaine (with the gorgeous hazel eyes and the voice that oozes sex appeal, or so we've been told),_

_We, meaning New Directions, have taken it upon ourselves to kidnap your one Kurt Hummel, as retribution for the flowers on our porches (they were lovely, thank you). Artie would also like to add that he would rather have had flowers than the wreath you attached to his door, and Kurt would just like to add that Artie is ungrateful._

_Let it be said that Kurt did put up quite a fight, because (and I quote) he "wanted to spend more time with Blaine". However, the odds were as against Kurt as the numbers were._

_**Hey, gayboy, this is Santana. Sorry for the mixup that one time, the only gay guy I'm used to is Kurt and he's pretty much a walking stereotype. You give off the appearance of being straight. You should work on that. I was all for staying here and watching you and Kurt get your gay on together (wanky wanky ;) but Finn, Puck, Artie, and Mike seemed to find the idea somewhat disturbing, so we didn't.**_

_Anyway__, (Rachel here again), we've taken Kurt for a little New Directions time and promise that he will be back in time for curfew, which we've been informed is 10 o'clock. We have a lot to discuss with him. We would have taken you with us, you know, but a lot of what we have to discuss involves you._

_**Menaing if you break my boy, I break you. –Mercedes**_

_Disregard that._

_Sincerely,_

_Rachel Berry, N. Puck, Artie Abrams, Brittany Pierce, Santana Lopez, Finn Hudson, Mike Chang, Tina Cohen-Chang, Mercedes Jones, Quinn Fabray, Sam Evans (and Kurt Hummel)_

_**P.S. I took my gnome back from Kurt, and dude, I'm really scared of you in a respectful sort of way. –Puck**_

Kurt looked up. "A few things. One, Puck, you took the gnome back? We've made some serious effort in making sure you didn't know who had it?"

"Kurt, the Dalton Crest was in nearly every picture," Rachel pointed out.

Kurt waved his hand. "A technicality."

"What are the other things?" Mercedes asked impatiently, checking her watch.

"Well, you made it a little blatantly obvious that I'm in love with Blaine."

"That's the point," Rachel said. "Anything else?"

"Santana, your note was forced. Gayboy? Really?"

Santana shrugged, inspecting her nails. "I have to find some outlet for my frustration."

Kurt shook his head in utter bewilderment.

"Now, if that's all…" Rachel said, "I suggest we re-convene this party in Breadstix, and leave before Blaine comes back and finds us all still in the process of stealing his roommate."

"Kurt rides in my car," Finn said, with a crooked smile.

Kurt felt his heart melt a little under the affectionate gaze of his step-brother, and grinned back. "Shotgun."

"You got it," Finn said, pulling Kurt into a headlock and ruffling his hair, which Kurt was unable to prevent due to the handcuffs still around his wrists.

When Finn let him go, Kurt was scowling. "I hate you."

"Love you too," Finn said cheerfully, and led the way out.

The car ride was far less awkward than expected. Someone (Kurt suspected Rachel) had clearly put a lot of thought into who would ride in which car, so as to avoid as many dilemmas as possible (such as Rachel and Finn being in the same car). Kurt was riding with Finn, Mercedes, and Tina. The other two cars were made up of Rachel, Puck, Artie, and Brittany, and Santana, Mike, Quinn, and Sam.

"So tell me about Blaine," Finn said, with all the tact of a five year old.

Kurt sighed. "What is there to tell?"

"You're in love with him? Really?" Finn asked, shooting a glance over at the boy scowling in the passenger's seat.

Kurt sighed. "This isn't like you, Finn. It's not some sort of bizarre savior complex thing because he's the littlest bit nice to me. He and I are actually _friends,_strangely enough. He calls on _me_ asking me to hang out, and we've held hands more times than I can count." (twenty-seven, actually, if anyone really wanted to know).

"He sounds nice," Tina offered, obviously wanting to break the palpable tension.

"He is. Incredibly," Kurt said shortly, then turned towards the window.

Finn reached out to touch his shoulder, keeping his eyes trained on the road. "You know that's not at all what I meant, Kurt. I was only asking because I'm happy for you."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You're happy with the thought of two guys getting it on?"

"I'm not homophobic!" Finn cried, nearly throwing his hands in the air, but then thinking better of it. "I was just kind of freaked out that you had a crush on me, any guy would be! But dude, I'm glad you have this Blaine guy. I'm only asking because I'm making sure he deserves you."

"He deserves more, actually." Kurt said, cooly. "But what he wants seems to be me. Or-" He sighed suddenly. "Actually, I don't know. Sometimes it seems like he wants something to happen- but he's waiting. For what, I don't know."

Mercedes leaned forward from where she was listening in the back seat. "Have you ever thought that what he's waiting for is you to make the first move?"

No, Kurt hadn't considered that. In any way.

"Oh." He said quietly.

"It's just a thought," Finn said, quickly. "Doesn't necessarily mean- okay, I'm not discouraging you, dude," he said, at the look on Blaine's face. "Just don't jump into this feet-first. There's a reason he's waiting."

Dinner was a lot less awkward than Kurt had originally thought it would be. Someone (Rachel again, most likely) had put a lot of thought into the seating arrangement, and somehow Kurt ended up sandwiched between Rachel and Mercedes and across from Tina. He didn't mind.

At some point between the breadsticks and the main course, Rachel whispered, "bathroom?"

The guys of the group were so used to Kurt joining the girls for bathroom breaks that they didn't even bat an eyelash when the two of them got up to head for the girl's room. They got some interesting looks from the employees at the restaurant, but weren't stopped.

Rachel leaned against one of the sinks. "So. Tell me about Blaine."

Kurt sighed. That seemed to be the topic of the night. "What about him?"

"Is there something going on between you two?" Rachel prodded. "I mean, I obviously don't know him well. But he couldn't take his eyes _off _you when you were singing at Sectionals."

Kurt pinked. "Really?" he said, in a voice slightly higher than normal.

Rachel smiled. "Really. So tell me. Have you two done a duet together?"

Of course that would be the first thing Rachel would ask him. To Rachel, no relationship was serious unless it was confirmed with a duet. And even then, it depended on the song sung.

"Well…" Kurt said, not quite wanting to either confirm or deny it.

Luckily, Rachel drew her own conclusions from his answer. Her face lit up. "What song?"

"Baby, It's Cold Outside," Kurt said, reluctantly.

Rachel's hands flew to her mouth.

"What?" Kurt asked impatiently.

After a moment, Rachel seemed to recover. "You sang _that song_ together and you're not a couple?"

"It's… complicated," Kurt sighed. "Blaine's a gentleman. He wouldn't do anything even if he _did _feel the same way about me."

"A gentleman? In what way?" Rachel inquired, a smirk crossing her lips.

"He owns a _pocket watch_, Rachel," Kurt said.

"A pocket watch?"

"I know. It's ridiculously dapper." Kurt said, using the word everyone used to describe Blaine. "Now can we go back to dinner, please? I'm starving."

So they didn't get him back by curfew. It was nearly 12:30 by the time they dropped him off, and Kurt had to scale the dead ivy on the back wall of his dormitory and pick the lock of one of his windows to get inside.

But it was worth it, he reflected as he turned the key in the lock, and thought about the smiles on New Direction's faces as they all laughed around the table. The warm glow he'd gotten in his chest at their unexpected arrival and kidnapping still wasn't gone.

They still _cared._

_And _he'd gotten to see Blaine shirtless.

All in all, a good day.

**A/N: fin! Yay for random one-shots taken out of more point-ful stories.**


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